Belgo Geordie: Adventures in regional New South Wales or pictures worthy of a dog's bum

The ripples are a dook landin', walkin' on watta then sinkin

I have been looky in me wurk in that I get ta travel about the state of New South Wales and bein' one to be oop at sparras fart and fond of a morning stroll I take pictures with me iPhone thingy ta send back to me landlocked, desk bound, office chained marrers. Of course they appreciate seeing images of the wide open spaces outta Sydney like. And they know I have me tongue tucked out corner of mouth ta get that shot and likely risking life un limb on some crumblin' river bank with only swamp hens fer company.

Tweed Heads

Mind these roos, they mean business

Now when we (Mrs Belgo Geordie and meself like) first moved to Australia we was of the opinion, head outta Sydney due west and within an hour yer would be in the big red (desert) facing crocodile munching roos and snakes the size of Alan Shearer's legs. And bits of bleached ribcage sticking oop outta sand. Mad Max jeeps cumin out of horizon like a convoy mirage where distance is hard to read. So it were a bit of a sooprise to find a rich variety of habitat that leads a man to draw breath and gasp in wonder. Then there are bloody burds! "Where Song Began" by Tim Low tells me Australia has the most argumentative and aggressive feather dwellers on the planet. Yer certainly know they're about and that you are on their turf. More parrots than you can shake a stick at. In eight years I've only seen a live snake outta the corner of me eye, about as mooch as I have seen Mr Shearer - more are seen as road kill- the snakes not the Venerable Alan. Boot roos abound in plentiful supply in all shapes, sizes, colours and brain capacity (having seen a seven foot plus monster bound across a busy highway in front of a truck doing eighty, it were like a berserker hurdler clearing two small honking and swerving cars and with a slight deft twist of muscle, roo boots and tail it side stepped the approaching truck before launching itself across a wire fence bounding at Exocet speed across the paddocks on a planet roo mission like a marsupial Ursain Bolt - but with far better physique.) Aye, there is plenty to look at and admire and puzzle aboot downoonder.

Derelict farm waterhole at back of West Wylong

It is country with a gift that keeps giving and that if you spend enough time looking, transfixes and feeds the marrow a rich broth of contentment. I thought it were time to post a few of the many pictures to show my appreciation and in doing so I acknowledge our first people, custodians who have a deep knowledge of this land, its treasures and remarkable and sometimes unforgiving terrain. But always enriching, reflective and providing me with a presence I have been privileged to experience. And on the whole folk living regional and remote are special and have interesting tales to tell when a man takes time to listen. Aye, there's been more than a few yarns that make me realise that outside of Australian cities community is alive and well, and if not thriving; resilient. As fer those feathered ratbags...gotta love them for their explosive, raucous personalities...better go and harness up my team of giant wombats and hit the road out into the deep west...